


Shot

by WhumpTown



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Malcolm Bright Whump, plotless whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: Malcolm gets shot
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	Shot

**Author's Note:**

> I have been struggling all day to write and, while I don't like this, I'm posting it anyways. I'm a little rusty with the characters and I need to get back into writing more PSon stuff. So, if anyone has any prompts or things they'd like to see (whether it be whump or fluff or angst or whatever) I am more than game to write it. As I need the practice

A sharp pain shoots up his side, the dirt his feet kicked up choking him. He leans over himself as his lungs rebel against the particles he’s steadily breathing in. His chest flails up with pain, each cough tightening the grasp he has on the black encircling his vision. The pain in his side blossoms into something stabbing, something undeniably not corresponded to the coughing.

His head clears with a surge of adrenaline, his entire body trembling with the over stimulation, leaving behind a flare of anxiety deep in his chest, and the stabbing flesh of his side. He closes his eyes, bringing his left trembling hand to his side. To the unnatural warmth seeping into the fabric of his right side. He already knows what he’s found before his fingers draw back to reveal the crimson mountain peaks of his fingers coated in blood. 

Dying is so cold. They don’t ever tell you that. 

He’s numbly aware of everything. The sound of bullets hitting the ground around him. The dust that the bullets kick up. The wind whipping his coat open and away from his body.

“Bright?” The others… he’d forgotten about them. His mind is rather one tracked as of this present moment. Focused on one thing at a time. It’s serene, normal. “Bright, do you copy?”

He copies, he’s just not sure they’re going to like the trouble he’s gotten himself into this time.

“Malcolm?” Dani. Her voice breaks through his comm louder- or maybe it’s just in his head. Something psychological that binds him to her voice, makes life surge in his lungs and in his chest. He wants to fight for her. Stay with her. Dani makes everything better. 

Shakily, stomach twisting like he’s going to be sick, he presses his bloodied fingers to the comm in his ear. “Dani?” JT and Gil always underestimate him. They forget he’s a highly trained federal agent but not Dani. She loves him. She always loves him.

“Ba-” Baby- his chest tightens, he’s worrying her. “Bright,” her voice calms, as simple as flicking a light switch. “Where are you-”

His chest tightens to the point he can’t hold back his cough any longer. It cuts her off, choppy and nasty as the coppery flecks of blood that coat the back of his throat. It’s enough to catch her attention and he’s aware of how _wrong_ it sounds. He knows she must be aware of it too. 

“Bright? Are you okay? You sound-”

He starts coughing again, this time doubling over himself and spitting blood into the dirt in rough puffs. He drools copper on all fours, forearms trembling under the weight. “I’m okay…” His left arm gives out from underneath him. He spills out, arms trapped underneath him as he writhes at the pain the movement causes. 

“Gil,” Dani’s voice cracks. “I’m going to get him.”

“No!” Malcolm’s breaks over whatever Gil’s response is. “I can-” he doesn’t want her coming here. The gunshots are heavier, she’s not putting herself in danger to come save him. He’s not worth that. “I’m-I’m…” he cries out in pain. Sitting up isn’t an option. 

“Too late,” Dani shouts and Malcolm peels his eyes open at the sound of boots hitting the ground. “Found him!” 

Malcolm smiles up at her, too weak and cold to care that there is a mob of people currently shooting at them. “I’m having a bad day,” he manages, voice rough and cracked. She reaches down and moves his hand from his wound, unable to hide her immediate reaction of fear. “Yeah,” he confirms, leaning his back in the dirt. He closes his eyes, “didn’t even see it coming. Otherwise, I would have just, you know, dodged it.”

Dani ignores his comments. She knows he’s trying to lift the mood with half-assed jokes but now really isn’t the time. “I’m going to get you out of here,” she presses his hand down on the wound and, surprisingly, he finds it doesn’t even hurt anymore. “Just hold tight, okay?”

He’s just cold, the pain is still heavy but it’s at the back of his mind. 

“Malcolm?” She pats his cheek, their situation turning dire as he blinks owlishly up at her. His eyes looking but not seeing. “I need you to stay with me.” He nods but his eyes drop immediately after. “Malcolm!” 

He can feel himself slipping, the cold consuming him. “Dani?”

She loops her arms under his, pulling so he’s sitting up. It breaks her heart but she ignores his cut off cry of pain.

“Dani,” he’s breathless and trembling. “Please,” he can’t. It’s too much. It hurts.

“Just hang on,” she looks down just in time to watch his eyes roll back into his head. “Malcolm!” Her scream is gut wrenching, heart broken and shattered. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she keeps pulling him, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. “You’re gonna be okay, Malcolm.”

“You’re gonna be okay.”  
________________

Malcolm wakes up in the hospital. He can’t remember _why_ or _how_ , he just knows the smell of antibacterial soap and the stiff feeling of the gurney beneath him and the scratchy blanket atop his chest. Every inch of his body hurts, lit a flame. 

“Bright?” Dani. Her hand slides into his, he can feel the warmth seep up his arm. “Mal, open your eyes for me.” Her finger brushes across his jaw until her palm presses to his cheek. “Come on, open your eyes for me.”

He manages it for only a second, the lights too bright and the heart monitor too loud. Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut, his entire body enveloped in pain. His teeth grit together in , - looks like a dentist appointment in his future. 

“That’s okay,” Dani soothes gently. She rubs her thumb along his knuckles. “I’ve got you,” she promises. She cuts the light over head off, leaving them to sit in the dark. Patiently, she waits for his face to calm. Slowly, he manages to open his right eye and following that, his right.

Dani gently brushed her hand through his hair. Smiling softly as his eyes dance between hers. “Did you know,” she brushes a tear from his eye with her thumb. “That you and I have now kissed seventy-eight times?” She leans closer to him, pressing a kiss to his lips. She stays leaned in for a moment, just cupping his face and enjoying how close he is. “Now it’s seventy-nine.”

He cracks a crooked smile, the lines of his face still taunt with pain and unease. “That’s…” he looks away as he struggles to breathe. The grip on her hand tightening as he writhes, unable to draw in a proper breath. Tears slip from his eyes, a breathless agonzied pant leaving his lips. He cries softly, not making a noise but kicking out with his feet. As if trying to gain his footing. 

“Breathe,” she urges, rising to her feet as her anxiety grows. Her eyes move over to the morphine pump at his side- the light red, denying him access to the painkillers he so desperately needs. “Just breathe, baby.”

He shakes his head, twisting his body away. He just wants to talk to Dani. To tell her that he’s madly, stupidly in love with her. 

Dani’s eyes are glued to the morphine machine, waiting on edge for the light to flash green. Just as she’s about to leave him to tell a nurse- more like shout at a nurse or a doctor for leaving Malcolm in so much pain- the light flicks green. 

He cries out as the medicine is dispensed into his blood, tears still falling down his cheek. “It hurts,” he whispers, tears streaming down his face. The medicine helps but his pain is still agonizing, but it’s not stealing his breath. 

“I’m sorry,” Dani can only hold his hand and wipe his tears away. It makes her feel helpless. “I wish I could help.”

Malcolm’s eyes flick over to her. His eyes run over her face before he shakily presses his right hand to the side of her face, thumb tracing her cheek bone. “Will you kiss me?”

Dani frowns, “Malcolm-”

He shakes his head, swallowing thickly, “it’s like… _magic_.”

She feels a blush creep up her cheeks. “Don’t be silly,” she whispers. “You need to get some rest. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Malcolm strokes her cheek, eyes sincere. “I’ll sleep,” he barters, “but only if you kiss me one more time.”

Dani sighs, she should have known better than to believe that a life threatening wound would sober Malcolm up. He’s still a lovesick puppy though, dosing her with those sad blue eyes. “One,” she caves, “and then you’re going to sleep.”

“K,” he closes his eyes as she gently presses her lips to his. She smiles as his hand moves up the back of her neck, making the most of the one kiss she’s allowing. “I love you,” he whispers against her lips. His hand moves along her face as she pulls back slowly. He smiles up at her, glad that even though their kiss is over she’s not moving away. “I can rest now,” he smiles, “because we have an even number of kiss.”

He sinks back into the pillows, the lines of his face drawn down in exhaustion. “Couldn’t…” he clears his throat. “Couldn’t rest knowing we had an uneven number but now we have eighty.”

She rolls her eyes and settles into the visitors chair at his side. “You’re full of crap,” he smiles and she can’t help sharing that grin. “Now sleep,” she orders, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

His eyes have already slid shut but he offers a sleepy, grin. “You promise?”

Dani rolls her eyes but her voice is sinere as she answers, “always.”


End file.
